The curtain went down.
The heat death of the universe played out in one last resounding note, the final dÃ©nouement to the performance.
â€œWell.â€ The young one emoted wildly, sending sparks of light and beauty bouncing off its consciousness. â€œWhat did you think?â€
The Eldest did not comment but turned its presence to another, a middle aged being by the count of their people. They had all always been there, but their consciousness sparked in and out, sometimes sleeping, sometimes dying and reborn. The middle-aged consciousness had a voice like the whirls of a sucking black hole.
â€œVery enthusiastic.â€ It intoned â€œbut not very heavy. The piece was shorter than I expected and the sentients were concentrated in that one area, which was quite an odd choice. Personally, I found the lack of activity in the wider cosmos to be quite dull. The stars, the cosmic dust, these seemed unremarkable, lacking in chemical drama.â€
â€œWell, yes.â€ The young one admitted, â€œIâ€™ve never been very good at all of that cosmic art. Iâ€™m really interested in what all of you thought of the sentients, thatâ€™s where I put most of my energy. What did you think of the sentients?â€
â€œOh, they were quite dramatic.â€ Chimed one that had just woken from a long death. â€œI only saw the end, but it was very magical.â€
â€œI thought it was a little too over the top.â€ Said the middle aged one. â€œA bit much for my taste. Iâ€™d like to see you do something less fanciful, more meaningful next time.â€
The young ones glee swirled around him like a solar wind. â€œOh! Oh! Then there will be a next time?â€ it asked, focusing on the Eldest. â€œEldest, I have such plans. Could I please try again?â€
â€œYes, youngest. You shall do it again. This time, let us see more of what you can do with these sentient beings, but always remember, my youngest, never neglect the stars.â€
365tomorrows launched August 1st, 2005 with the lofty goal of providing a new story every day for a year. We’ve been on the wire ever since. Our stories are a mix of those lovingly hand crafted by a talented pool of staff writers, and select stories received by submission.
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"Flash fiction is fiction with its teeth bared and its claws extended, lithe and muscular with no extra fat. It pounces in the first paragraph, and if those claws aren’t embedded in the reader by the start of the second, the story began a paragraph too soon. There is no margin for error. Every word must be essential, and if it isn’t essential, it must be eliminated."
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Voices of Tomorrow
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